It doesn't have to start off like a firework
by pyxislynx
Summary: Draco/Hermione. Distrust and denial are a pain to fight against, and despite being a smart witch Hermione's understanding was muddled by them, much to Draco's frustration.
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE:** It doesn't always have to start off like a firework

**PAIRING:** Draco/Hermione

**TIMELINE/SPOILERS/WARNING:** Seventh Year, BUT! Canon only until Goblet of Fire. No real plot, and I don't really want to have to deal with issues like the DA, Draco working with Voldemort and the Death Eaters (lol sounds like a band), Dumbledore's death, the full-time rebellion, etc. Also, I know they're not yet allowed to drink alcoholic beverages. But you can't convince me no one's snuck in a bottle or two.

**DISCLAIMER:** Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, etc; its world, and other characters © JK Rowling. I am not making any money from this fanfiction, and wrote it purely for free entertainment. And because my shipper feels came back in a sudden rush.

**A/N:** Yes, I ship Draco/Hermione. It's on equal terms with Sirius/Hermione. I blame it on Prisoner of Azkaban and Hermione sassing him over the Nimbus broomsticks in book 2. I've actually written several stuff for them but never got around to finishing any until this time. Yesterday afternoon I was going through my otp tags at tumblr and saw some reblogs of D/H. Then I saw a recommended ff post and decided to read a couple of them. I think I stopped at the second one after reading Pansy being the 'other woman'/villain. It's been a long time since I've read HP fanfiction, and Pansy being a villain was something I got used to years back. But friggin hell after reading that ff I couldn't help but think, '_You know what, no._' That amateur shoujo bullshit has to stop. Not that I'm a pro, but you know. The trope has to end.

I apologize if there are any canon inaccuracies (until Book 4, that is). It's been years since I last read anything Harry Potter. I did consult the wikia from time to time, but who knows, I might have missed something. Sorry about that.

Last note: No idea what mungworms are. It just popped in my head when I was thinking of imaginary potion ingredients.

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* * *

**It doesn't always have to start off like a firework**

* * *

When Hermione Granger woke up that morning, she had planned to do only one thing during that year's first Hogsmeade trip— hang out with her best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley until it was time to go back later that afternoon. Usually she would lay out specifics, such as waking up at eight, meeting up with Harry and Ron at the common room at around eight-thirty, and then heading out for the Great Hall for a quick breakfast before strolling out to Hogsmeade by nine.

But it was the first weekend after a particularly hellish school week, and Hermione felt like taking whatever the day had in store for her. Basing from her experience, anyway, this wouldn't be the time of the year when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would attempt to make his grand comeback.

So yes, Hermione was contented with freestyling her weekend, even if it meant walking around more and fighting through the crowd for the whole day.

"You sure about ditching Pansy?" Hermione overheard a random female student from her line to the toilet. Three Broomsticks was overly crowded, and so the trio was forced to head to another dining place that wasn't named 'Hog's Head' or 'Madame Puddifoot's'.

Gossip never really interested Hermione, not when it didn't concern her friends. She usually just ignored them as engaging or even just passively listening didn't yield any productive results. She'd rather read a book or do her homework than to waste time in idle chit-chat that could turn quite malicious and destructive. The only time she would react was if her friends such as Harry, Ron, and Ginny were being targeted with spiteful nonsense, or when the topic was something that was critical to, say, saving the world. Rita Skeeter was a big example of how she dealt with gossipers who messed with her friends _and_ her.

"Can you not mention that hag?" Another voice— a guy's one— said. "All she does is prattle on and on about anything and everything. The only time she'd ever shut up is if there's something in her mouth."

There was a light slapping sound and a short giggle.

"Is it true, then?" The female student said. "That all she's ever good at is talking someone to death and…" there was another fit of giggles.

Hermione glanced at the front of the queue. She was still two people away from getting in the toilet. She wanted to leave, but her bladder felt like bursting any minute now. Why didn't she go before heading out of the castle? Then she wouldn't have to suffer through people not having any decency to talk in a lower volume at a public place.

"She certainly is," the guy said. "But it's not really surprising, seeing as she's dated probably half the male population of Hogwarts. You can't be _not_ good with that much experience."

"D'you think she's ever gotten pregnant?" The female voice gasped. "Sometimes I see her sulking alone in the common room or in our dorm room. Wait, you don't think she already had…? I mean, I never really see her stomach big, but who knows."

"At the rate she's gone," the guy laughed. "She's probably done it more than once."

Patience, Hermione believed, was one of her virtues. However, just as she had decided to abandon 'organization' earlier that day, she went on and chucked patience out of the metaphorical window.

Crouching behind a tall potted plant, Hermione finally saw the couple having a not-so-discreet reputation-smashing by a window-side table. With a light flick of her wrist and a muttered incantation, Hermione nodded in satisfaction as the two students she had recognized as Slytherins failed to notice the split-second shimmering of their tea.

Hoping she didn't look suspicious, Hermione dragged Harry and Ron away from the café before the unsuspecting couple would suffer from a horrible case of loose bowel movement. That should stop people from taking them and whatever bull they were spouting out seriously for a while.

Three Broomsticks was still full, but at least Hermione, Harry, and Ron were able to find a table— share, actually— with their Ravenclaw friend Luna Lovegood. It was cramped as the table was intended for only two people, but the three were deathly hungry and so they didn't let out a single complaint. After telling her companions what she'd like to have for lunch, Hermione headed for the toilet. There were four people in line, but whoever was inside left after just a couple of seconds and Hermione hoped the others would do their business quick as she didn't have any plans on peeing all over her pants.

"Just so you know, I still think you're beneath me, being a Mud— Muggle-born, and all."

Just as Hermione was about to turn her head, the girl who had fallen in line after her hissed that she didn't look. Of all the years hearing her taunts, Hermione was more than positive that Pansy Parkinson was the one behind her.

"Aah, some guys just can't take getting dumped," Pansy let out a heavy sigh. "I'm pissed that you got to them before I did, but I must admit that was an impressive job. I'd have mistaken you to be a Slytherin if I wasn't getting allergies just thinking about who you are."

And with that, Pansy left Three Broomsticks.

It was the closest thing to 'thanks' that Hermione could get from anyone in the Slytherin House, and hours later Hermione was still astonished that Pansy even bothered.

Perhaps not planning her day out wasn't such a bad thing, after all, Hermione decided.

* * *

Maybe it was the satisfaction of exacting 'justice' earlier that day, or perhaps she had one butterbeer too many, or maybe it was the shot of Firewhiskey that she took as punishment after losing several rounds of Exploding Snaps card games (she knew she shouldn't have, being Head Girl, but just once she decided to give in and make an exception), but Hermione volunteered to go out on a 'quest' to get more food from the kitchens. When the twins graduated two years back, it was much harder for the Gryffindors to grab food from the kitchens. With Harry possessing the Marauder's Map and Invisibility Cloak and Hermione wanting to constantly check up on Hogwarts' house elves to make sure they were being treated humanely and fairly, the trio often volunteered to be the food runners.

As it was already past ten in the evening, the hallways were clear though Hermione, Harry, and Ron rarely took them, opting instead for hidden passageways and stairs. After tickling the pear in a large painting that hid the way to the kitchens, the three slipped inside and Harry and Ron went on to gathering as many food as they could accept from the more than glad to assist house elves.

Had this been years back, Hermione would have been appalled and start giving away clothes to free the house elves. She didn't establish the Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare for nothing. But after learning that going about her campaign through aggressive liberation wasn't working in her cause's favor, she decided to go about it slowly by first convincing people to treat house elves as more than slaves.

Dobby the house elf rallied more house elves to prepare more food, and he packed as many snacks and desserts as he could in a large sack. It was amazing how the tittering tower of knitted hats— courtesy of Hermione— he was wearing refused to fall.

After one last check on the unfortunately still alcoholic Winky, Hermione left the kitchen with Harry and Ron and four sacks of party food. All that was left was to go back to the Gryffindor Tower without being detected and they'd be good for the rest of the night.

Hermione was already giggling at the thought of pulling off another mischievous stint that nobody really expected of her when there was a loud meow coming from the top of the stairs they were taking. The three froze, hoping against hope that the blasted snitch of a cat of the caretaker Argus Filch would go away, but of course it was an impossible wish. As a faint light source came closer, the three raced back downstairs with the boys leading the way with the help of the Marauder's Map.

Inwardly cursing her recklessness losing a bet that she shouldn't have taken, Hermione stumbled after Harry and Ron and almost lost them when they jumped inside a small passageway hidden behind a unicorn tapestry on the second floor.

It would have been easy to catch up to them until Hermione realized she was going downwards rather than up. Deciding it was safe inside the passageway, Hermione lit her wand brighter. She'd just have to backtrack until she found a way that headed upwards. She made a mental note to memorize the different hidden passageways and possible routes they could take to go back to the Gryffindor Tower in case they got separated or she had no access to magical maps.

A quiet shuffling several meters up alerted Hermione, and to her horror she heard Filch's wheezing come closer. Cold dread filling every vein in her body, Hermione rushed downwards, following the spiral steps with such speed that she felt like she was flying. Which was actually partly true as eventually she lost her footing and took down another tapestry on her way out of the narrow exit.

Heart still racing, Hermione moved to disentangle herself from the tapestry, ripping the old fabric in her haste.

"Granger?"

There had been many times that Hermione had thought, '_This must be how it feels like to have a cardiac arrest'_, such as when she encountered the Basilisk back in second year or while watching Harry face his dragon during the Triwizard Tournament during their fourth year.

This was another moment that she would add to that mental list.

"Malfoy!" Hermione gasped, her breathing ragged and her chest hurting with her erratic heartbeat.

Of course she'd end up at the dungeons. There was no such thing as a 'perfect day' for Hermione whenever she was at the dungeons of Hogwarts. Only Slytherins experienced that.

She let out a short, choking sound as somebody yanked the back of her collar, and Hermione looked on in shock as her best friend's nemesis and one of the banes of her life Draco Malfoy dragged her to another hallway and to the back of a statue where there was a small, hidden alcove with a sliding entrance made of a stone wall. Hermione wanted to ask what the infamous Slytherin was doing, but Malfoy only shushed her before peering through the only crack in the stone sliding wall.

Hermione slid down the back wall, not minding anymore how dirty it could be or how cold it was. If she went back outside, Filch would catch her and she'd be put on detention. She didn't want to even imagine the disappointed look Professor McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor House and her favorite Hogwarts teacher, would have once she stepped foot in her office. No, she'd rather be stuck with one of the worst people she's ever met than go through that.

"I think he's gone," Malfoy muttered. "But to be safe we should stay here for a couple more minutes."

A heavy sigh was all Hermione could think of replying to him with. Now that the firewhiskey's effect on her inhibition was wearing off, all she wanted to do was perhaps take a warm shower and then call it a night.

A dim light filled the cramped room, and Hermione swatted at Malfoy's wand when he brought it near.

"Isn't that a bit too much for a late night craving?" Malfoy said as he sat down on the other side of what would be more appropriately called a 'closet'.

Hermione crossed her arms as she mentally prepared herself for another Gryffindor-Slytherin tirade. "Shouldn't be of concern to you," she said with cocked brows.

"At the moment, it is," Malfoy said as he reached for the sack. "I was about ot head for the kitchens, myself."

He took out two custard tarts and a bottle of pumpkin juice before sliding the bag back to Hermione.

"I'm surprised you don't have Potty and Weasel," Malfoy said after taking a bite out of one of the tarts. "Or did they go off to have a little private session somewhere and left you dealing with Filch?"

Hermione only sniffed. "Jealous much?" She asked. She knew aggravating the guy trapped with her would be bad for the immediate future, but if he was going to make fun of her friends then she'd return the favor to his face.

"Yeah, not really interested," Malfoy said, and he finished his first tart.

Malfoy continued eating, and as the silence continued on Hermione was getting more and more restless. The guy was in the middle of finishing his drink when she decided to finally confront him.

"Alright, spit it out," she said.

She was only met with a stare, and then Malfoy wiped his mouth.

"Granger, don't mistake me for that ginger barbarian," he said. "And if you're going to make me spit out what I've already eaten, you shouldn't have let me have the food in the first place."

Hermione bristled. Of course. Malfoy had never made things easier for her.

"I meant what you wanted," she hissed. "There's no other reason for you to help me other than to force a deal out of it. So what do you want? Mind you, it's a one time thing only."

"Granger, I didn't save your ass," he said. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm another student outside of his dormitory during curfew. If I left you out there, I'm certain you're bringing me down to hell with you."

As if she would believe him.

"There's no point in pretending," Hermione said. "What do you want? A duel with Harry? Get an essay homework done? Play a prank on a teacher?"

"You're not the only smart person in this school, Granger," Malfoy said. "And as tempting as the other suggestions sound, I'm not interested. But if you insist on demanding a 'deal', then give me food to take back with me."

Hermione still very much doubted him, but she slid the sack over to let Malfoy stuff his own bag with pies, cakes, and bottles of pumpkin juice and butterbeer.

"You're taking an awful lot," Hermione remarked as she got back her sack which was how half the size it was before.

"I'm not the only one eating them," Malfoy said.

"Having a little party of your own?"

"You could say that," Malfoy leaned back on his side of the room. "Parkinson refuses to go to sleep until she's stuffed herself."

Pansy Parkinson. It wasn't too long ago that she somewhat had a conversation with the girl, and until now she still couldn't believe she did something to somehow defend her, and to add more to her surprise Parkinson all but thanked her for it.

"Still doubting me?" Malfoy smirked at her.

Hermione silently observed Malfoy. Parkinson was one of the few people she frequently found hanging around with Malfoy. Whenever Malfoy and them would have verbal sparring, more often than not Parkinson was there to chime in her opinion of them.

"Are you getting back with her?" Hermione couldn't help but ask. Malfoy and Parkinson had gone to the Yule Ball during their fouth year together. She didn't know how their dynamics went, but it seemed they got along well.

"Jealous?" Malfoy shot back at her with a sneer.

Hermione let out a snort. "As if," she said. "Let's just say I had an unfortunate run-in with her ex, and I was wondering if she'd be able to catch a break."

"Granger," Draco said in mock surprise. "I didn't know you cared for Slytherins."

"I don't," Hermione snapped. "Anyway, if you two are gonna get together, can you not treat her like that— that asshole did?"

Malfoy watched her carefully, his head slightly tilted as if assessing her.

"We're not going to get together," he finally replied. "And we've never been together at all."

Well that was news for Hermione.

"Then at the Yule Ball—"

"Last-minute decision," Malfoy shrugged. "We both didn't have anyone, and I prefer to not be a laughing stock."

Hermione paused before she spoke once more. If Malfoy truly didn't want to be embarrassed, why was he telling _her_ about it? There was no doubt that Malfoy and his group distrusted and despised Hermione and her best friends as much as they did to his group.

Malfoy was confusing her more and more and Hermione wanted nothing more than to leave the small room and go back to the safety of the Gryffindor Tower. If Malfoy insisted that he didn't any ulterior motives in helping her, then she would stop insisting in case he changed his decision. With that in mind, Hermione got to her feet and dusted her pants and back. Malfoy followed suit. Wordlessly the two slid the stone wall aside and walked down the hallway and took a right turn.

"Bloody hell, I thought Filch had caught you."

Hermione rubbed the center of her chest. Yet another 'heart attack' moment to add to her list. Pale and looking like he had come at a run, Ron Weasley grabbed the sack from Hermione's hand. He stopped midway as he noticed Malfoy eyeing him with disdain.

"Sneaking around, Malfoy?" Ron said with a frown. "Careful, I'm pretty sure Filch can detect your stench even from a mile away."

"What a night to be out," Malfoy turned to sneer at Hermione. "Coming across a mudblood and a blood traitor. What's next, an encounter with a squib and a lunatic? Where's your ringleader? Passed out from all the food you've been pigging out on?"

Fred lunged at Malfoy, his fist cocked back and ready to strike. Hermione blocked him and pushed him back with a grunt.

"Don't waste your time with him," she gritted. And there she was, thinking Malfoy was being a little bit civil by referring to her by her surname and going mellow with the insults. "Come on, before Filch catches us."

Ron looked very much like he wanted to have another go at Malfoy, but Hermione tugged on his arm harder and he eventually walked alongside her.

"What were you doing in that room with him, anyway?" Ron grumbled as they turned at a corner and followed a grim-looking dungeon hallway.

"Came across him when I was running away from Filch," Hermione answered. "Where's Harry?"

"Keeping a lookout nearby with the map," Ron answered. It seemed it would take some time for his head to cool off. "When we realized we lost you we dropped off the food at the tower and came back. Nearly ran into Filch but we managed to get here through other ways."

"Thanks for coming back," Hermione said. "Don't know how I'd return to the Tower without being spotted otherwise."

Ron nodded in reply. "Let's hurry back, then."

Hermione was definitely going to bed after this, and hope and pray that Malfoy wouldn't demand anything from her with the excuse of saving her from detention and disappointing her professors and the headmaster.

* * *

Sometimes miracles astounded and impressed Hermione. Like how Harry and Ron didn't choke on their food as they inhaled as much as they could before they had to head down to their Potions class, or how their Slytherin classmates never ran out of things to insult them with each and every time they crossed paths with each other.

"What's the matter, Granger?" A Slytherin girl called out and pointed to dark circles around her eyes. "Busy sneaking around last night?"

"Oooh," another Slytherin girl said. "Is Miss Prissy actually a Miss Pu—"

"As if," Pansy Parkinson intruded with a smirk. "That tumbleweed-head's probably up all night reading her textbooks for the thousandth time. Wouldn't expect anything less from a nerd. Viktor Krum probably dumped her because she'd rather snog her books than an actual human being."

The rest of the Slytherin girls broke out in a fit of laughter and moved their sights on to Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown who were in line behind Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

It was for a brief moment that it might as well have never happened, but Hermione was sure that Parkinson gave her a curt nod before continuing with her jeers and taunts.

Hermione reached up for the bags under her eyes. As much as she wanted to sleep that night, the thought of Malfoy blackmailing her thwarted it. What if he _did_ ask her to play a prank on one of their professors, or disrupt a class so they would be dismissed early, or— Hermione shivered— purposely embarrass herself during dinner at the Great Hall?

"You sure you're alright, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"If you don't stop asking me I might answer 'no' just to throw you off," Hermione suppressed the urge to yawn.

There really wasn't any reason to not talk about why she was with Malfoy last night, on hindsight, but at the time all Hermione wanted was to be left alone so she could finally get some sleep.

Should she tell her best friends about what really happened?

Yes. Yes, she should. Especially if there's 99.9% chance she'd be guilt-tripped or blackmailed.

"Move, Granger, we haven't got all day."

Shaking out of her reverie, Hermione let out a small tut and moved inside the Potions classroom. Everyone had already settled and Hermione joined Harry and Ron's table. To her annoyance and dread, Draco Malfoy had followed her.

"You're lost," she muttered as Professor Snape swept inside the room, the dungeon door slamming shut in his wake.

"I'm not," Malfoy answered, and he settled in his seat. Harry and Ron were both upset at the arrangement as well. "Because you were so slow, all the seats on my side of the room were taken."

Hermione scanned the room for Malfoy's cronies Crabbe and Goyle, and found them sharing a table with Parkinson.

"There's still space left," Hermione said. "Just take your seat and go away."

"Why so eager to kick me out, Granger?" Malfoy smirked.

"Why the bloody hell do you think, Ratface?" Ron all but snarled in his direction.

"Careful, Weasel," Draco said disinterestedly. "Everyone might mistake you for a beast and who knows, Professor Snape might consider making your spleen an ingredient for a new potion."

"Unusual to see you late, Malfoy," Harry said in pure dislike. "Been bullying a poor first year again?"

"Hah, from the looks of it he's out sneaking some more last night," Ron imitated Malfoy's sneer. "Do us a favor and get stuck in a broom closet with Filch, won't you?"

"Can't say I wasn't stuck in what seemed like a broom closet last night," Malfoy said with a haughty leer. "Though the company was a lot better than that filth. Want me to give you the _sordid_ details, Weasel, in case by some miracle you managed to get a girl in with you and you're at a loss on what to do?"

Ron let out a low snarl as his face turned beet red, and Professor Snape promptly gave him extra homework for 'disrupting' his class.

Hermione, meanwhile, had gone pale. She should have told Harry and Ron what had happened before Malfoy made things worse. She shot him a glare, but Malfoy ignored her and continued writing down notes from Professor Snape's lecture. While it was suspicious indeed that Malfoy was nearly late for class, Hermione was more concerned about what he was planning.

"Never thought you'd be the type to be struck by a person's looks, Granger," Malfoy said quietly. There was a mocking tilt to his lips but he didn't turn to her. "Who knew you responded to sex appeal?"

She had a mind to kick Malfoy's seat, but instead Hermione moved closer to Harry and proceeded to ignore Malfoy the best she could. Knowing she had to act fast or she'd have to deal with a major misunderstanding and a huge headache later, Hermione wrote on a small piece of parchment that when she was running away from Filch last night, Malfoy had dragged her to a hidden room where they waited until they were sure that Filch wasn't in the dungeons anymore.

Folding the paper in half, Hermione moved to pass it to Harry—

— but someone else snatched it away from her.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Professor Snape's cold voice reverberated from behind them. "Still passing notes at your age, Granger? Let's see what's been keeping your interest away from the lecture."

Yes, there were times that miracles have astounded and impressed Hermione. She never relied on them, though, and she'd rather prepare for anything and everything that might happen. She wondered if Ron or Harry had any dungbombs with them.

As half of the people in the class waited in anticipation and the other half in dread, Snape's eyes merely continued to move across the paper, his sneer fading into a frown. He then returned to the front of the class and ordered everyone to start working on their potions.

"Weasley," he said in a dark tone. "Partner up with Mr. Malfoy."

Ron let out a protest but stopped midway as Snape looked very much ready to give him even more homework. With a muttered '_sorry_', Hermione grabbed her things and moved to Ron's seat while Ron begrudgingly took Hermione's place between Malfoy and Harry.

"What was that about?" Harry whispered to Hermione.

Snape must have been too shocked at what Hermione had written that he had chosen to keep quiet about it. After all, his favorite student Draco Malfoy was involved.

Hermione blanched.

"Are you really alright?" Harry asked as he leaned closer and patted Hermione's back.

Hermione nodded uncertainly. While she had written that she and Malfoy just 'waited' in the small room, it was possible that Snape would misunderstand and think there was something more, especially since Hermione hadn't written about the circumstances before getting chased by Filch and what happened after the caretaker was gone.

"I should've just stayed in the common room," Hermione grasped at her hair, making it appear larger in volume.

"Spill it," Harry whispered to her. "What's going on, Hermione?"

* * *

Much to Hermione's relief, Professor Snape hadn't called her after class, though he held back Malfoy. More than glad to get out of the dungeon room, Hermione grabbed Harry and Ron by their arms and didn't stop walking until they were out on the grounds on their way to Herbology class. She then finally explained what had happened and how she was now expecting Malfoy's blackmailing or guilt-tripping attempt.

"You should've just let me sock that Ferret on the nose at least once," Ron said.

"Yes, because that's a great way to avoid him blackmailing me," Hermione's voice dripped with venom.

She then turned to Harry, who had been quiet for the most part.

"What do you think, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe he really just didn't want to get into trouble," Harry said.

Ron let out a snort. "Yeah, right. Malfoy not scheming or taking advantage of an opportunity? I think I'd believe it more if Snape says he washes his hair with shampoo at least once a day."

"Malfoy doesn't have any proof against you, anyway," Harry told Hermione. "So just forget about what happened last night."

"Wish my conscience would let me," Hermione grumbled. "He _did_ save me from a great deal of trouble."

"Didn't he say he was only looking after his own hide?" Ron said. "Just think about that and be guilt-free."

Hermione eventually agreed, and whenever she would start panicking from anxiety she held on to that thought until she had recovered fully.

* * *

The rest of Monday went by without any problems, much to Hermione's relief. She didn't overhear any horrible gossip about her or even encountered the person she was dreading the most at the moment.

That is, until dinner time at the Great Hall.

"Look who's got his knickers in a bunch," Ron snickered as he gestured towards the center of the Slytherin table.

Indeed, Malfoy looked mildly pissed. If the scowl on his face wasn't an indication enough, the empty seats beside and infront of him were. Crabbe and Goyle rarely left his side, though right now they were at the leftmost end of the table, casting worried looks at Malfoy before continuing to stuff themselves with porkchops and chicken drumsticks.

Hermione propped up a large book she had borrowed from the library and ducked behind it. If Malfoy was irritated, she wasn't going to attract any amount of attention until perhaps the end of the school year. Though embarrassed at the rate she was going, Hermione tried eating as fast as she could just so she could go out and escape. A couple of minutes later, she was bidding goodbye to Harry and Ron to find solace in the library. She rarely encountered anyone who disturbed her in there, and Hermione wanted to start working on all of her homework, even the ones due for the following week.

She was in the middle of her Arithmancy research when somebody took the seat next to hers. It was odd that the person would do so, as the library was large and there were plenty of other free seats and tables especially at this time, which was after dinner. However, homework was Hermione's priority and so she moved at an angle so as to not see the other person and be distracted further.

"Uhm," the other person cleared his throat. "Granger."

Said person let out a small curse. She had frozen at the voice that had called her name, and her quill spilled enough ink to have a significant amount of blot on her research paper.

Wanting to keep an air of calmness, she didn't bother to look at the guy.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She said, continuing with her writing.

"Didn't anyone tell you to it's rude to not look at the person talking to you?"

"Hmm… If I recall correctly, you did the same thing during Potions class this morning," Hermione retorted, still refusing to look at Malfoy. As much as she'd like to think positive about her situation, Malfoy cornering her in the library didn't bode well for her. "So, what is it?"

But instead of an answer, Malfoy hooked his foot on one of the legs of Hermione's chair and spun her to face him. Hermione had a mind to kick him for ruining her handwriting with a large line accidentally drawn across the parchment, but she settled on crossing her arms with a huff instead.

"Whoever put you in a bad mood," Hermione said in a low voice, not wanting to attract the attention of the strict librarian Madame Pince. "I hope that person had a great day making you miserable."

"Believe me, he didn't," Malfoy said. He then let out a heavy sigh as he ran a hand down his face. "Granger, remember how I saved you from getting caught by Filch?"

Hermione's fingers twitched. _'I knew it. I'm doomed.'_

It was one of those rare times that Hermione wished she didn't have a guilty conscience.

"Of course," Hermione said, still trying to act cool despite her rising panic in her mind. "You said you didn't want anything in return and settled on getting some of the food that I had with me."

"Well I changed my mind," Malfoy grumbled. He then let out another sigh before hanging his head low. Whatever he was planning to ask was eating away at him, and as Hermione watched him struggle she wondered if he actually needed help on something instead of ordering her to do something nefarious.

She let out her own heavy sigh.

"Alright," Hermione said, uncrossing her arms and putting down her quill on the table. "What can I do for you?"

Malfoy looked at her through his tousled hair. Taking a deep breath, he brushed the strands infront of his eyes aside and sat up straighter.

"Next Hogsmeade trip," Malfoy's hands clenched into fists. "Go out with me."

She knew it was generally rude to stare at people, but Hermione couldn't help it. This was the least she had expected to hear, especially from someone like Malfoy. She let out a derisive laugh but stifled it with both hands. Malfoy, telling her to go out with him?

"Malfoy," Hermione struggled through a suppressed laugh. "If this is a plot to infuriate someone, I'm not the most effective person to bring with you."

Hermione then thought for a moment. Unless Malfoy was attempting to make someone jealous? She was, after all, the least likely person he'd go out with. She was muggle-born _and_ best friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and she's always had better grades than Malfoy.

Hermione shook her head with a wry smile.

"If this is to annoy Harry and Ron, it won't work," she said. "I've already told them what happened and they wouldn't be surprised if you made me do something stupid."

To her surprise, Malfoy slapped a hand on his forehead.

'_Aaaaaaalright…'_ Hermione started to doubt her line of thought.

As the guy seemed as if he couldn't believe with her own 'stupidity', Hermione figured it was something else. So perhaps her first thought was right and Malfoy plain and simple wanted to get somebody jealous.

"Why wait for Hogsmeade weekend?" Hermione asked. "If you're planning to make someone jealous, you can easily do it in a couple of minutes or even seconds within Hogwart's grounds."

Malfoy's left eye twitched.

"Granger," his lips curled into a spastic sneer. "Just how daft can you be? Has nobody else apart from Krum ask you out, that's why you can't even properly process what I just said?"

Hermione crossed both her arms and her legs with a glare.

"Excuse me for being unable to trust anything you say at face value," Hermione spat. "Why should I go with you on the next Hogsmeade trip? We're far from what you'd call 'friends', and don't tell me you simply wanted to go out on a _date_. Only an idiot would think it's that harmless."

Malfoy's expression and body language clearly said '_Merlin help me tolerate this fool any longer'_, but Hermione stuck by what she had just said. It was simply preposterous to willingly go _anywhere_ with Malfoy. Was it an attempt to discredit her, then? To embarrass her out on the public?

Hah. She wasn't a sheep willing to get slaughtered. Yes, she was thankful for Malfoy's help that night, but she wasn't suicidal.

Malfoy got up from his seat.

"I knew it was pointless to go this far," he grumbled. He then turned and left the library, leaving a positively hopeful Hermione.

So glad was she to be able to dodge the bullet that Hermione continued working on her essays and research papers until Madame Pince kicked her out of the library.

* * *

**... to be continued ...**

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Reviews, comments, favorites, and emphatic shipper feels are most welcome :)


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:** Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, etc; its world, and other characters © JK Rowling. I am not making any money from this fanfiction, and wrote it purely for free entertainment. And because my shipper feels came back in a sudden rush.

**A/N:** The premise and 'romance' of this ff (slow route) is actually for one of my short stories/comics, but oh well. Guess it'll be a D/H ff now hahahaha

* * *

**chapter 2**

* * *

Hermione didn't see nor hear anything about Malfoy until their double Potions class two days later. He looked worse for the wear, with dark circles on his eyes, his hair unkempt, and his necktie lopsided. Ron had openly laughed at the surly Slytherin, and Crabbe and Goyle didn't hesitate to threaten him with bodily harm.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for instigating a friction between houses," Professor Snape walked in between the two parties.

With heavy feet, the Gryffindors filed in the room along with the smug Slytherins.

"They're always the ones starting a fight," Ron whispered harshly once they've chosen a desk at the back of the room. "Dumbledore should really look into how unfair Snape is."

"Your essays," Professor Snape waved several sheafs of parchment in the air and began returning them to their owners. "Appalling, as usual. With all your loud proclamations of grandeur and prancing about as if you own the place, one would assume the Gryffindors have the intelligence backing all that confidence up."

Hermione did her best to keep on a neutral expression instead of joining Harry and Ron's scowls. She had always perfected her assignments and tests in Potions. As much as Snape actively tried to put them all down, Hermione knew he couldn't effectively shame them and their house down to the ground.

"Disappointing," Snape said with disdain as he handed Hermione her paper that he had marked 'A'.

Hermione's expressionless face contorted into fury.

"At least you still got an _A_," Ron said as he crumpled his paper. "You'd think he always gives D's and T's until you look at Hermione's paper."

Hermione's hand shot up in the air, barely missing Harry's glasses.

Snape ignored her and started with his lecture, but Hermione wasn't ready to give up. She knew her essay on the properties and samples of practical application of mungworms deserved nothing short of an O. Even when her arm was getting numb a few minutes later Hermione refused to back down. Snape was unfair 99% of the time, but he graded objectively on written tests and homework. There was simply no way she could have gotten just an 'A'.

An hour and a half later, Hermione had to march down to Snape's desk to ask about her grade.

"Your research is outdated," Snape answered shortly before returning to cleaning the board and his desk with several flicks of his wand.

There was no way her research could have been that of poor quality. Hermione had access to the same reference books and materials as other students and she had even consulted with both Hagrid and Professor Sprout. So why? Why was Snape suddenly targeting her?

Malfoy wordlessly dropped a small vial of his potion on Snape's table before leaving the dungeon with Crabbe and Goyle. He didn't so much as glance at her, and for a moment Hermione felt sorry for his clearly bedraggled state. Was this the reason why Snape was particularly unforgiving today? His favorite student was having problems and he's empathizing with Malfoy?

"Why are you still here?" Snap looked down at her coldly. "Leave before I deduct more points from Gryffindor for loitering."

"But sir," Hermione tried once more. "My essay—"

"_Thirty points from Gryffindor_," Snape gritted his teeth. "Now leave before I make sure your house disowns you for bringing your points down to zero."

* * *

There were several ways how people would vent out their anger and frustration, but the most popular ones were to engage in either food binges or violence.

Hermione chose both as she viciously forked her dinner while grumbling every insult she could come up with to curse Snape with. At first Harry and Ron were supportive of her move, adding their own colorful choices of words in between chewing their food, but eventually they stopped as they realized that Hermione's rage ran deeper and it would take more than ranting out for her to calm down.

"Uh, Hermione?" Harry tried calling her attention a few minutes later. Most of the students have finished with dinner and were either just hanging out in the Great Hall or have left for someplace else. "Aren't you done eating yet?"

Hermione threw her fork down and grabbed her bag, bumped into the table as she got to her feet and caused the bench to fall back with a loud bang as she tried to leave. Still fuming, she all but threw the bench back up before stomping on her way for the door where her bag swung wildly and hit Malfoy on his leg.

"Watch where you're going," Hermione snapped, and Crabbe and Goyle were quick to answer back with their own glares and knuckle-cracking.

There was a sound of hurried footsteps, and Hermione's anger faded into cold fear as she saw Professor McGonagall walking down from the professors' table towards them. Harry made a move to pull Hermione away to escape any sort of punishment, but Malfoy defeated him and dragged Hermione away with him towards the upper floors. Harry and Ron let out protests, but were forced to stay as Professor McGonagall caught up with them and demanded to know what was going on between the two and Crabbe and Goyle.

* * *

Hermione had never thought of Malfoy as having hearing problems as he always seemed to be around, ready to eavesdrop or sneak just to catch her and Harry and Ron off-guard and get them in trouble. But the guy never gave any reaction to her shrieking into his ear or hitting his arm as Hermione desperately tried to be freed from his grasp. Several students stared at them as they passed by in a hurry, and Hermione thought with dread at what the gossip vine would come up with the next morning.

She only stopped threatening hexing off every part of Malfoy's body starting with his head once the guy yanked her inside the library.

What was Malfoy up to _now_?

Hermione decided to wait until Malfoy finally stopped at the same corner where they had had a weird conversation not too long ago. He pulled out a chair dropped into it, his head resting on one of his hands. Waiting for the guy's explanation but not wanting any more trouble, Hermione remained standing but still facing him.

"You can sit, you know," Malfoy said in mild irritation.

"Tell me why you dragged me all the way here, first," Hermione said.

The guy ran a hand through his hair, the pale strands limp and lifeless by the candlelight. Letting out a sigh, Malfoy got back to his feet.

"I've talked to Snape about your essay," he said. "He said he'll reconsider your grade if you return the paper within this week. I can give it to him for you if you want."

Hermione eyed him with suspicion.

"Why?" She asked. There was no way Malfoy would willingly help her.

"Bloody hell, Granger, can't you just stop distrusting me for once?" Malfoy said. He then stuck out his hand. "Give me your damn paper and I'll hand it back to Snape."

Hermione pushed her bag behind her. "What do you want in exchange?"

"I swear Granger, sometimes you try my patience too much."

"If you haven't been such a pain since our first year at Hogwarts then I wouldn't treat you like this!" Hermione hissed.

"Even Slytherins are capable of change, Granger," Malfoy said. "Now give me your paper or do I have to steal it from you?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, Harry and Ron ambushed her in the common room and kept a spot for themselves near the fireplace.

"What did the bastard do?" Ron asked. "I swear I'll smash his face so hard—"

"He asked for my Potions paper," Hermione answered.

Her two best friends stared at her, and Hermione nodded empathically. She then explained what had happened in the library, and in the end both Harry and Ron were just as confused as her.

"Definitely suspicious," Ron broke the silence a few minutes later. "What the hell's playing at?"

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, but then paled and shook his head vigorously, as if convincing himself that what he had thought of was downright impossible.

"What?" Ron asked as he rested his elbows on his knees.

Hermione was curious as well. What was Harry thinking?

"Aah, well, it's ridiculous, really," Harry said, avoiding Hermione's gaze.

"Harry, we've just had a long conversation about the impossible thing that had happened," Hermione said. "What is it?"

"Well…" Harry scratched his head. "What if— _What if_— he…"

"_What_?" Hermione snapped, her patience wearing thin.

"W-What if he _likes_ you?" Harry finally said.

Hermione and Ron gaped, and then shook their heads simultaneously.

"Harry, I think you need some sleep," Hermione said as she patted his shoulder.

"Somebody probably slipped something in his drink," Ron nodded sagely.

"He asked her to go with him on the next Hogsmeade trip," Harry reasoned. "He never attempted to threaten her with blackmail, and he even went to appeal to Snape regarding Hermione's grade. With how much he looks stressed out, it's the only other possible explanation."

"Unless his father's making him do something for You-Know-Who," Hermione said.

The three shared dark looks.

* * *

The following morning, people gave Hermione curious looks as she went down with Harry and Ron to the Great Hall for breakfast. Whatever gossip that had spread, she just hoped it didn't cause people to attack her. Rita Skeeter was an easy target as she was just one person, but Hermione couldn't possible be able to concentrate on her schooling while keeping an eye out for each and every person who would cause any harm to her, whether physically or verbally.

She was contemplating just abandoning her toast and going on ahead to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class when a screech owl landed beside her plate and stuck out its leg. Harry and Ron looked on with interest as Hermione unwound the string and took the rolled parchment.

"It's your homework!" Ron exclaimed, pulling it closer. "And Snape's marked it 'O'!"

Hermione glanced at the Slytherin table. Malfoy had his back to her, and so she couldn't gauge his reaction or how he was feeling that morning.

"I suppose I have to thank him later…" Hermione muttered.

"We can go with you if you want," Harry said.

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "In case he finally reveals his plans."

Hermione nodded in agreement. Despite Malfoy's words and actions she still didn't trust him, and having Harry and Ron nearby was for the best.

After huddling together and coming up with a plan, Hermione prepared her small note and folded it neatly into two halves. Just as the three of them have planned, they got up from their table as soon as Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle left theirs. The two groups didn't acknowledge each other on the way out of the Great Hall, which was quite a surprise as Malfoy usually had an insult or three headed their way. Malfoy didn't give any indication that he noticed a small piece of paper make its way to the pocket of his robes.

Now all that's left to do was to prepare for their meeting that Saturday.

The library was out of the question as Hermione didn't want to risk Madame Pince banning her from coming back if things got tough between their 'meeting'. Picking an empty classroom was no good, either, as there were few hiding places for Harry and Ron and there were still a lot of school property they could damage—something that Hermione wasn't keen on letting pass by.

So they were left with somewhere on the grounds, and in the end they settled on the old, rickety bridge at the back part of the castle property. Not too many people frequented there, and if a fight broke out they had plenty of places to run for cover at or escape to should a professor arrive.

* * *

Care of Magical Creatures class was an uncomfortable period later that afternoon, and Hermione did her best to avoid looking at the direction of Malfoy or his friends. She had no idea whether Malfoy had read her note or not, and she didn't want to see his reaction at the moment.

"Move, Granger," Parkinson walked up next to her. "Or have you gained so much weight you'll need ten people casting levitating charms on you?"

Rolling her eyes, Hemione moved on to the other side of the young golden unicorn she was grooming. There were plenty of other unicorns in the pen, all thanks to Hagrid, but why was Parkinson partnering up with her?

"I thought you were highly intelligent despite being a mud— muggle-born," Parkinson said with a low, though still casual, voice.

Hermione kept quiet. She rarely let Parkinson's and her fellow bullies' insults get to her, and she wasn't going to start now.

And there she was, thinking that perhaps Parkinson would start being a tad more civil after what happened at Hogsmeade and before their Potions class a few days ago.

"If you're worried about getting bullied for going out with Draco, don't," Parkinson continued. "We're not going to treat you like a damn _princess_," Parkinson spat the last word in disgust. "But people close to Draco respect any decision me makes, no matter how absurd they may be. Just remember to not let it get to your head."

Hermione stared at Parkinson in shock, who looked back at her with an irritated expression.

"What are you looking at?" She said.

Hermione dodged behind the unicorn's head and resumed brushing its mane. Was Parkinson seriously reassuring her? Or was it another effort to catch her and Harry and Ron off-guard?

Hermione frowned. It was getting more and more ridiculous to hold on to the notion that Malfoy was planning something against them, but she just couldn't shake off the years of distrust she had concerning Malfoy and his friends.

"We're not pitch black through and through, Granger," Parkinson said. "We may hate Gryffindors, but we're also people capable of considering exceptions and going through some changes. And Draco… well, he started being a damn fool longer than you think."

Parkinson threw her brush in a bucket and picked it up. She gave Hermione a hard look as she walked over to her side.

"If you decide to not give him a chance, don't worry," she said. "As much as I'd want to hex you in support of my friend, I won't. Just don't piss me off. Same goes for Crabbe and Goyle and even Blaise."

And with that, she left.

* * *

Come Saturday morning, as Hermione stood alone near one end of the bridge, thoughts of her conversation with Parkinson kept disrupting her mental review of all the hexes and charms she knew. Harry and Ron, on the other hand, were hidden nearby, ready to assist should Hermione need help.

When Hermione had shared what had happened during Care of Magical Creatures class with Harry and Ron, even Ron was starting to get convinced that maybe— _maybe—_ Malfoy really was just asking her out because he _liked_ her. They then decided that the appointed meeting couldn't come fast enough, just so everything would finally be over.

"Getting tired of the library, Granger?" Came Malfoy's drawl. He still looked like he needed more sleep, though he wasn't as bad as yesterday.

"Thought I needed the fresh air," Hermione said. It wasn't a complete lie as she was mostly indoors the whole schoolweek, and Malfoy only shrugged his shoulders in response and turned to look somewhere else.

"Why did you call me out here?" He asked.

Hermione glanced behind Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle weren't anywhere as far as she could tell, but Malfoy could have easily had them hide somewhere.

"Thank you for helping me get a proper grade," Hermione said. "Snape seemed determined to insist that I only deserve an 'A'."

"He's just being unreasonable, as always," Malfoy said.

Another silence came between them, and Malfoy rubbed the back of his neck.

"If that's all," he said. "Then—"

"Wait," Hermione stepped forward. If Malfoy wouldn't answer her truthfully, then maybe she could try forcing it out of him with the help of some spells she had just reviewed.

Malfoy looked at her sideways.

"What is it?" He said, his tone tired, as if he already knew what Hermione was about to ask.

"Why did you do it?" Hermione asked, and Malfoy let out another heavy sigh.

"Again, Granger?" He said.

Hermione clenched her fists. She'd have to try a different questioning route.

"You don't look alright," she said. "You've been highly stressed these past few days. If you're having problems, helping out one of the people you hate the most should be the least of your concern."

"I don't hate—" Malfoy turned to her fully. "Look, I did it for no other reason than just to help you. _That's all_. I'm not expecting any compensation, and I have no plans on using it against you."

He let out an irritated sigh and turned to leave. Hermione knew what she was about to do could very well be her downfall, but Malfoy had helped her twice already, and with the guy seemingly suffering from something it was only polite to offer the same courtesy.

She grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt when he didn't stop walking despite her calls.

"I don't know if I could be much of any use, being a Gryffindor and all," Hermione said as she stood before Malfoy. "But… But if there's something I could do to help with your problem, then you can ask me."

Malfoy looked at her quietly, and then let out a small laugh.

"Granger," he said as he stepped back. "You sure you want put that offer on the table?"

Hermione's fists tightened. She was getting closer. Either Malfoy would reveal his true plan, or he truly was capable of being a decent human being once in a while. She didn't want to dwell on the possibility that he honestly _liked_ her. That was ridiculous. He had never shown any interest and there was no reason for him to feel that way towards her.

"Depends on what you ask for, of course," Hermione replied.

"Then you're useless," Malfoy waved her away with one hand and sidestepped her.

She quickly blocked his way. "Try me."

"Trust me, you'd refuse to do it in less than a second," Malfoy said. "Hell, you've already rejected me once."

Hermione's frown deepened. Was he talking about the Hogsmeade trip?

"Why did you ask me to go out with you?" Hermione said. "If you give me a good reaason, then I'll go along for one day. But one day only!"

Malfoy looked back at her unbelievingly, then let out a short laugh.

"Granger, you really haven't been asked out by anyone else after that Bulgarian's Yule Ball invitation, have you?"

"Can you shut up about that?" Hermione said hotly. "And what's that got to do with anything, anyway?"

"I simply want to go out on a date with you," Malfoy said. "I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend, not immediately. I just thought maybe, just _maybe_, we could work."

Recalling her conversation with Parkinson about people changing and Slytherins not being 'evil' throughout, Hermione finally understood what was going on.

Draco Malfoy was the son of Lucius Malfoy, one of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's most prominent followers. With the dark times coming closer and closer, Malfoy and his friends must have felt that they'd rather fight against You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters rather than take part in their campaign of terrorism and genocide. With prejudice and distrust strongly against them, Malfoy most likely thought that the easiest way to get on Dumbledor's side was to be friends— or at least be civil— with people outside of their House and their pureblood peerage.

"I see," Hermione finally started to relax. "Malfoy, I don't know what inspired it, but I admit I'm impressed by your willingness to befriend someone who you've treated as an enemy since first year. Alright, we can hang out for a day."

Malfoy stared at her once more, and leaned on the railing for support as his shoulders slumped.

"Granger, people are always blabbing on about how you're the smartest witch of our time," Malfoy said. "But you… You're actually a lot slower than you think."

And then he left.

Miffed at another insult against her intelligence, Hermione walked back to where Harry and Ron had been hiding. They were both pale and still in a state of half shock, and Hermione gave them an impatient '_What?'_ as she tapped her foot on the stone floor.

"You don't really think he actually wants to go out on a _genuine_ date, do you?" Hermione said incredulously.

"Hermione, if that guy isn't depressed about his family situation or his future," Harry said.

"It's gotta be love-life-related," Ron blanched.

Harry scratched his head.

"What now, Hermione?" He asked.

* * *

Hermione refused to think that she was _slow_ in any sort of way. It wasn't her fault that she didn't trust Malfoy's words on the surface, and who could blame her for thinking he was only out for extending a hand for friendship, using a 'date' as an excuse since she's a girl? Dark times were fast approaching, and if someone related to the dark side of the war was genuinely converting then she was all for it.

She found Malfoy on his way down to the dungeons. Wasting no time, she yanked him by his collar and pulled him all the way to the library. It was now her turn to take an uncomfortable seat and Malfoy's turn to remain standing.

Hermione let out a small cough to break the silence between them. She really didn't get to plan anything as she hurried back to the castle, her mind occupied with her ranting, and now she had no idea how to start a conversation. Should she tell him that sure, she'd go on a real date with the guy, or should she ask why of all people did Malfoy decide to ask _her_ out?

It was very much obvious that Harry and Ron didn't like the idea of Hermione going out with Draco. However, considering what had happened during the past few days, the two told Hermione that whatever answer she came up would be supported by them. They just made her promise to not do any PDA while they were around.

As for her answer…

"I was going to ask you out for the Yule Ball," Malfoy spoke up. "But that Bulgarian got to you first and… well, I couldn't decide fast enough if I should take the risk or not."

Hermione stared at Malfoy, who now had taken a seat near her. There was a slight tinge of red on his cheeks, but Hermione figured it was just her brain playing tricks on her.

"As for when I started considering it, it was sometime late in third year, I guess," he continued. "That punch shook up my brain a tad too much, seems like," he smirked. "Then spent the following years swinging back and forth from denial to extreme interest. If you're gonna ask me for more specifics, you're pushing your luck."

He then let out a short sigh. He did that a lot these past few days, Hermione noticed.

"Now what?" He asked.

Hermione leaned back on her seat.

"Then let's try it," she replied. "Let's see if we can be friends first, and then decide from there."

She didn't think it was possible, but after recovering from shock, Malfoy slipped on a seemingly genuine smile along with a relieved sigh.

"A-And we don't have to wait until the next Hogsmeade trip," Hermione continued. "We can start trying to be friends now."

"Alright," Malfoy said as he stuck out his hand. "Sounds like a good plan."

Hermione shook hands with him, and finally she felt safe enough to smile back at the guy. She may have been at odds with Malfoy since their first year at Hogwarts, but she decided that perhaps it wouldn't be too bad to at least try to be friends.

"Can't wait to see Professor Snape find out," she smirked.

"Too late for that," Draco said as he leaned back on his seat as well. "Why do you think he gave you that low grade?"

"Typical," Hermione scoffed. "He's the Head of Slytherin House, so I guess that's no surprise."

"Actually," Malfoy said, rubbing his hand uncomfortably. "He did it because he found out about your first rejection."

"O-Oh, I see," Hermione said, dreading whatever mother-in-law-ish actions the Potions master would do in the future. "So, uh…"

Hermione fiddled with the side seam of her pants. She had just agreed on being friends with Malfoy with a conscious effort to maybe get together with him, but indeed she hadn't really been asked out by anyone else apart from Viktor Krum. It definitely would have been easier if a Hogsmeade weekend was coming up, but as it is she didn't really know what to do. Her grumbling stomach wasn't helping.

"Want to walk through the gardens?" Malfoy suggested.

"Uh," Hermione said. "Can we grab some food first? I kinda skipped breakfast."

Malfoy let out a smirk as he got to his feet.

"Good idea," he said. "Might as well let everyone know as soon as possible to not bother with you."

"I'm not eating at the Slytherin table," Hermione pushed her seat back to the table.

"Granger, you want your future boyfriend to get castrated at the Gryffindor table?"

"Got your confidence back, I see," Hermione commented dryly.

"Maybe my godfather could arrange a special table for us," Malfoy started walking.

"Don't you dare," Hermione gritted.

* * *

**END**

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Reviews, comments, favorites, and emphatic shipper feels are most welcome :) Thank you for reading!


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